


Matter and Shadow

by Taamar



Category: Torchwood
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2019-03-10
Packaged: 2019-06-30 00:13:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15740175
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taamar/pseuds/Taamar
Summary: Thanks to Tosh's lecture, Jack thinks he knows what's going on with Ianto. He's wrong.





	1. Chapter 1

Jack Harkness has had worse weeks. A lot of them, actually, though that doesn't take the sting out of this particular bad week. They hadn't even finished cleanup on that poor creature in the warehouse when Gwen came in demanding that Rhys not be retconned. Too emotionally worn down to argue, he let her get away with it, and the rest of the team gave him the silent treatment until he sent everyone home with instructions to take the morning off. They all need a little distance, Jack thinks, and he needs time to figure out what the hell he's going to do about Gwen. He knows giving in was a mistake, and he wonders how he'll get her under control before she gets someone killed. It's a mess.

He's surprised when the door alarm sounds and Ianto strolls in at his usual early hour—in a brand new suit, no less—but he's not disappointed. Ianto's close call was part of the reason he'd reacted so strongly to Gwen's threat to leave, and he wants more than anything to hold Ianto, to reassure himself that his young lover is all right. Also, Ianto is generally  _extremely_ affectionate after missions, so when he walks past Jack's office with barely a nod before heading down into the archives, Jack is left with his mouth hanging open in shock. It takes him almost thirty minutes to decide how to handle this unexpected reception. In the end, he goes with the time-honored tactic of  _pretend nothing's wrong and see what happens._

Down in the archives, Jack leans against a file cabinet near Ianto's work station. "I didn't expect you in this early," he says casually.

Ianto shrugs, barely looking up from the screen he's staring at. "Things to do, sir."

They've used 'work to do' as a private joke for months, but this… it's not the same phrasing, and there's no playfulness in Ianto's voice. Jack tries again. "I'm glad you're here. Come up and have coffee with me?"

Now Ianto looks at him, irritation clear on his features. "I'm assured,  _Captain_ , that you can manage the machine on your own. I'm far too busy today to play servant for you."

Ianto pushes himself away from the desk, shooting a glare at Jack before disappearing into the file stacks. Jack knows better than to follow him when he's in a mood like this, but he has no idea what's caused it. While the mission yesterday was horrific, Ianto's never reacted this badly before, and the suggestion that Jack should attempt to make his own coffee with Ianto's beloved machine is unprecedented. He leaves the man to his work and returns to his desk to write the report and wait for the others. He hopes they're not all this out of sorts. If they are, it's going to be a very long day.

 

* * *

 

Of the rest of the team, Owen comes in first. He's sober, which surprises Jack a little, and doesn't seem to have much to say, which is a bit of a relief. He knows Owen considers the space creature's death to be a personal failure, though having seen the extent of the damage, Jack isn't sure there was any alternative. They haven't decided yet what to do with the men involved, they just threw them in the cell next to Janet and left them there overnight. After what they did to that poor creature, Jack would be perfectly content to leave them there until they rot. Maybe putting Owen in charge of their eventual fate would help him cope? Put his vindictive streak to a constructive use, for a change.

When Tosh comes in 30 minutes later, Ianto finally comes up from the archives to make coffee, and Jack knows things are even worse than he realized. His coffee is  _terrible_. Not only that, it's in the wrong mug. Jack tries to tell himself that it doesn't matter what mug his coffee's in, except that Ianto is a creature of habit and always serves them in their own mugs. That he's switched is a deliberate and pointed  _'fuck you'._ Jack can barely drink it, it's so horrid, but he refuses to concede whatever point Ianto is trying to make, so he chokes it down, the bitter acid leaving his stomach roiling. Tosh sets her mug aside after the first sip makes her gag, though Owen drinks his with no sign of distaste. Jack isn't sure if he really can't tell the difference, or if he's a better actor that Jack has given him credit for.

Gwen arrives shortly after in a flurry of self-righteous apologies and excuses. Jack notes absently that she's come prepared with a cup of take-away coffee and wishes he'd thought to call her and ask for enough for the whole team. He's so busy watching Gwen, coveting her coffee, and wondering how to discipline her that he doesn't notice that Ianto's disappeared again. Whatever it is he's done wrong, Jack knows there's one person who can tell him and won't pull any punches.

"Toshiko?" Jack asks, trying to phrase his question.

She smirks and keeps tapping her pen against her lip. "What do you want, Jack?"

"What, I can't just start a conversation with a beautiful woman?"

"You only call me Toshiko when you want something that isn't related to my job, when you're trying to flatter me. Otherwise it's just Tosh. What do you want?" She sets the pen down, turns to face him, and leans back in her chair.

He edges over to perch on the side of her work station. "Have you spoken to Ianto today? He's not his usual self. I'm… worried. It's not just the coffee, either. He's been out of sorts all day." He tries to think of a way to explain it that doesn't involve the words  _'didn't bring me coffee'_ or  _'wouldn't make out in the archives'_. "It's just, he usually calls out a good morning, at least."

Tosh sighs. "Oh, Jack. Did you really expect him to ignore yesterday?" " The look she gives him is a mix of pity and frustration.

"It was hard on all of us. He was almost shot! I want to make sure he's all right, but he's barely speaking to me."

"It's not the mission, it's Gwen," she says, pursing her lips to show her distaste. "The way you acted, we're none of us very happy with you."

"The way I acted? She's the one who can't follow orders!"

"And you let her get away with it, no consequences. She decides to tell Rhys about Torchwood, you bring him on the case. She jeopardizes the mission by breaking cover, you don't say a word. She refuses to retcon Rhys, you let her manipulate you until you admit that you can't live without her. Bad enough for us, but for Ianto? After that  _moment_  you and Gwen had when we first scoped the warehouse?"

"Ianto wasn't there!" Jack protests.

"Owen was. Do you really think he'd keep it to himself when he had the chance to give Ianto a bollocking? Owen also pulled the CCTV of Rhys and Gwen kissing while you watched longingly, so you can bet Ianto's seen that, too. So when you sent us all home so you could brood over Gwen, how do you think that looked to him?"

"Ianto understands— "

"No he doesn't, Jack!" Tosh interrupts. "He'll never say anything, but he thinks you're in love with Gwen and just making time with him. And he's willing to accept it just to be with you! Every time you give in to Gwen's demands it looks like you care more for her than the rest of us."

"I'd make allowances for any of you," he protests. "I  _have_. Ianto never asks."

"Because he thinks you'll say no. God, how can you be so  _stupid_? There's Gwen parading around how  _special_  she is, and how she's the  _heart_  of Torchwood, and all Ianto can see is you smiling and giving in."

Jack covers his mouth with his hand. "Shit," he murmurs into his palm. "I hadn't thought of that."

"You never do. Yes, you bend the rules occasionally for all of us, but you'll let Gwen get away with anything. And Ianto's still so loyal to you that when you ordered him to follow Dale yesterday he did it without a thought. He'd die for you, Jack. He'll lay down his life on your word, and Gwen can't even be bothered to follow protocol!"

"Shit," Jack repeats. "I'll speak to Gwen today."

"And to Ianto," reminds Tosh. She gestures at the full mug of vile coffee. "I can't take another day of this." Her expression becomes serious, and she reaches out to place her hand over his. "You hurt him, Jack. Make it right."

 

* * *

 

As much as Jack wishes he could put it off, he calls Gwen into his office and closes the door. She leans casually against the edge of his desk, as if she owns the place. She's forgotten who is in charge, and he somehow never noticed. Jack takes his chair, gesturing for her to sit.

"Gwen…" he begins.

"I won't," Gwen states flatly. "I need him, and you need me, and I won't retcon him. You can't make me."

He sees now what Tosh was saying. "I  _could_  make you, actually; I don't need you as much as you think. Yes, you're important here, but not so much that you're indispensable. I've given you a lot of leeway. That stops now. Rhys can keep his memories, we'll have him sign the NDA and all the rest of it, but I expect you to follow orders from this point forward."

"What about when they're wrong?" She says, still defiant.

"That's not your decision. You're part of a team, and I'm in charge. I make the decisions, I deal with the consequences. I can't have you endangering us all like you did yesterday, and I can't have you violating security protocol. I'm letting you have this last thing, letting Rhys know, because he did well yesterday and he may be useful in the future. We'll pull him for missions when necessary."

"You can't! Jack, it's too dangerous, he was almost killed!"

"That's Torchwood, and you chose to involve him. You can't have it both ways." He sees her gearing up for an argument, as if all she has to do it stand her ground long enough and he'll back down. Looking back, he sees that it's been true, every time. Until now. "I'm serious about this, Gwen; I'll retcon you both and settle you separately so you won't trigger each other. Do. Not. Test. Me. I  _will_ let you go."

"But what about us? Me and you? Won't you miss me?"

"There is no us. There's you and Rhys, and there's me and Ianto; we may not be flaunting it, but the way we live in each other's pockets around here you couldn't possibly have missed it," Jack snaps. "And just last night you told me, told all of us, that Rhys  _matters_  so much. That none of us understand. Yet you keep throwing yourself at me as if you expect me to sweep you off your feet. That's over. You've made your point about needing someone outside of Torchwood **,**  you've chosen Rhys. You can't have it both ways."

"You can't be serious. All the looks, the touches? All the things you've shared, the time spent in your office going over cases. You can't tell me you don't love me!" Gwen leans forward as if daring him to deny it.

"I don't love you," Jack says, realizing the truth of it. "I'm attracted to you, and I care for you very much, and maybe that would be enough if it weren't for Ianto, but I  _need_  him in my life. I can't lose him to some passing fancy. There is nothing between you and me that even comes close."

"But why? We'd be so good together! And we work together, Rhys would never know!  _Ianto_  would never know!"

"Do you even hear yourself? Going behind Rhys' back, when you claim to love him so much? And hiding it from Ianto? Even if it were possible to hide  _anything_  from Ianto around here, how can you think I'd do that? I've let myself get carried away, given you the wrong impression. The looks, the touches, that all stops too. We're co-workers, nothing more. That's all we'll ever be."

"Fine. You'll change your mind, but fine." Gwen whirls and stomps out of his office. As he watches her go, Tosh looks up at him with a crooked half-smile. He's willing to bet that she recorded the entire thing, and he finds he doesn't mind. This time he's willing to stand by his words in front of them all. It feels good. He stood up to Gwen, he defended his relationship with Ianto, maybe now things will get better.

 

* * *

 

Ianto is still refusing to speak to him, claiming to be busy in that dry, disinterested voice he uses to hide behind. Owen's not happy with Jack either, but it's a lot easier to ignore the surly medic. Jack  _expects_  him to be a pain in the arse.

When the Rift alert sounds, it's almost a relief. Something to cut the tension, at last. It's a large enough breach that he really ought to take the entire team, and it's organic, which is always more dangerous, but Tosh had been reverse engineering the implants they recovered from Beth Halloran before the lorry accident that started the shit show of the previous day, and he really needs her to catch up on it; there may still be other sleepers. She stays behind while Jack, Gwen, Owen, and Ianto pile into the SUV with the boot loaded full of traps, restraints, and medical equipment. Owen, in the front seat, carries on a running monologue complaining about the upkeep of Cardiff's roads while Gwen sulks. Ianto seems entirely unaffected.

They follow the signal until it dumps them at an old abandoned primary school. Parking the SUV around the back, out of sight of the main road, they break in. The place is a maze of broken walls, torn wiring, and stuck doors. What Jack means when he says, "We should split up," is that Gwen and Owen should piss off so he can talk to Ianto alone, but what actually happens is that Ianto starts giving orders:

"I'll stay on the main floor, the records and administrative offices. Harper can check the basement and utilities, while Cooper checks the classrooms. You take the upper storage and the roof, Captain."

Splitting up? Jack doesn't like the plan, but he's not willing to call Ianto out on it, not with things as fragile as they are right now. So he nods. "Comms on. Call in anything unusual. Anything at all."

Jack's been digging through moldy athletic gear for twenty minutes, which is not as much fun as it sounds, when he hears a crash and a scrabbling from the lower levels.

"Everything OK? Check in," he calls over the comms.

 _"Sorry, that was me,"_  Ianto responds a little breathlessly,  _"rotten floorboards. Almost went through."_

"Gwen?"

_"Fine, Jack. Nothing here but old desks and graffiti."_

"Owen, what about you?" Silence. "Owen, check in!"

 _"He's in the basement, there may be interference. Shall I go check on him?"_ Ianto offers.

"Please."

Jack goes back to shifting crates of school supplies, shoving a little harder than is actually necessary. He hates having one of his team out of communication, but something about this situation is bothering him more than usual, and he can't stop thinking about it. Something about the way Ianto was suddenly engaged and helpful after being cold and distant reminds him of—

Gwen screams, high and sharp. Jack is already rushing to her when he hears Ianto shouting, then a scuffle, then the crack of a gunshot—Gwen's Beretta—a struggle, short and brutal, then silence.

"REPORT!" he orders over the comms.

_"We're fine, Gwen found the alien. Her earpiece is broken, though. We're in the library, second floor. Just need you to help tag it and bag it. Owen is on his way."_

Caught up in relief that Ianto wasn't harmed, it takes Jack a moment to remember that Ianto had said he was going to check on Owen. In the basement, not on the upper floors with Gwen. Something is definitely not right here. He rushes to the library, Webley cocked and raised, to find Gwen kneeling on the ground with Ianto's hand in her hair forcing her head back, the barrel of a gun grinding into her temple. Her gun is on the ground, and Ianto's got a graze on his arm, but his hand and voice are steady. Jack stares, unable to process this betrayal. Could things really have gotten this bad? How could he not have noticed  _again_? And where the hell is Owen? Jacks heart sinks; that's Owen's Sig Sauer in Ianto's hand. The crash he heard earlier must have been Ianto and Owen. Ianto's betrayed them all, and it's Jack's fault.

"Too easy, Captain," Ianto says, a cruel smirk Jack's never seen before spreading across his features. "Now set down your weapon and slide it to me. I'll shoot her if I have to."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, thanks so much for the support, it means a lot and helps me push through when the writing just doesn’t come. I love all you brilliant darlings.

****

 

It’s five am when Ianto wakes up, his usual time despite the entire team being told to take the morning off. They were all sent home early, too, after the scene between Gwen and Jack where he’d pretty much admitted that she can do whatever she wants. Ianto stayed a bit after, hiding out in the archives, thinking maybe he could talk to Jack about what to do next after Jack calmed down a bit. What a waste of time that was, Ianto thinks with a mental eyeroll, Jack spent the evening staring longingly at CCTV footage of Gwen and Rhys; Ianto left the Hub without Jack even noticing.

 

It’s not like he expects anything else. Yes, he’s in love with Jack. And yes, he knows Jack feels deeply for him. Ianto doesn’t need or expect the usual trappings of a relationship, the romance, the declarations, the public show of togetherness. Whatever pull there is between Jack and Gwen, Ianto knows the other man is faithful to him, and that’s what matters. No matter how many longing looks or charged moments Owen shows him on the CCTV, Ianto knows that’s all there is, and it’s not really a big deal. The problem is that _Gwen_ doesn’t understand it. She thinks there’s some epic forbidden love affair happening, and that’s just rubbish. Her behavior is deplorable. It’s disrespectful to Ianto and would be devastating to Rhys, if he knew. Jack, with his usual blindness to twenty-first century relationship expectations, just doesn’t understand, and Ianto is fast reaching the point where he’s going to have to say something. It’s screwing up the team dynamic, and that’s dangerous.

 

It’s dangerous for Gwen, too. She’s right, she _needs_ Rhys. Without him, she wouldn’t be _Gwen_ , and despite how much Ianto wants to smack her sometimes, she does keep the team from sliding into cynical callousness. Gwen reminds Ianto of his mother. Not in a weird, creepy way; like Gwen, Ianto’s mum had been vivacious and outgoing, loving everyone and everything. It was only when Ianto’s father started to pull away into drink that she changed.

 

It happened when Ianto was about thirteen and hit his growth spurt, becoming tall and lanky. Even Ianto’s mother admitted that her quiet, reserved child was nothing like the rest of their short, plump, boisterous family. She called him her _fey changeling child_. Ianto’s father had just called him _someone else’s bastard_ and spent most of his time at the pub or with Rhiannon, who looked just like his own sister. Without her husband’s affection, Ianto’s mum had become unstable, erratic. Withdrawn.

The team can’t afford that. What it amounts to is that Ianto is both emotionally invested in keeping Gwen from screwing up her relationship with Rhys, and professionally invested in her learning to _follow fucking orders_. Ianto knows he’s pulled back from the team a bit lately, unsure how to navigate this mess without it coming off as jealousy. He’s pretty sure Tosh thinks he’s pining.

 

He groans and rolls over. He’s spent all his spare time lately with Jack, and here he is wasting a rare morning off. He never intends to fall into Jack’s bed, only it makes him feel _so alive_ , and that’s important to a man whose probable life expectancy is measured in months rather than years. Less than that, if Gwen keeps ignoring field protocol. He pushes himself out of bed and makes a list of all the things he’s left undone while shagging Jack at every opportunity. Laundry is starting to overflow the hamper, and he’ll need to take his suits to the cleaner, and probably order a few new ones.  His bedding could use a change. Sort the post, pay the bills, throw the rest away. Call his sister before she shows up at his door at the most inconvenient moment possible. Clean his fridge, which is starting to look like the one Owen installed in the medical bay when Ianto flatly forbade him to store alien tissue samples next to the leftovers. He checks and sees no missed calls or messages on his mobile; he expected Jack to at least check up on him.  

 

He goes through his chores trying not to think about what would have happened if Dale had one more bullet in his gun and how easily Jack ordered Ianto to go after him. That’s the difference between Ianto and Gwen: Ianto obeyed immediately, without question. Gwen’s insubordination would get them killed, he has to make Jack see that. He’s not going to confront Jack about his relationship (or whatever) with Gwen. That’s not the point at all.

 

After a morning that has been productive on every level except the one he needs most, Ianto decides he can’t stay home any longer. He needs something to do, and he needs Jack. Yes, there will probably be an argument, but the others won’t be in for a couple of hours yet, and so there’s time for the fight, the making up, and the shower after. Ianto dresses in Jack’s favorite suit, tucks a bag of a new coffee blend into the pocket of his coat, and he’s on his way, dropping his suits at the dry cleaner on the corner. On the way to the Hub, he stops for pastries. He and Jack might be able to shag away their lingering frustrations, but the others will need sweets. As he crosses the plass, an older gentleman stops him to ask for the time. Ianto shifts the bakery bag under his arm to access his watch, giving the man just enough time to jam a stun gun against his ribs and fire.

 

When he wakes, Ianto is tied to a chair with a sack over his head. By the all over ache, he knows the stun gun was standard Torchwood issue, and set at its highest, which means he’s been out for approximately two hours. He can’t see a damned thing through the bag, not even light, which he finds somewhat disorienting. He tries to wiggle his feet, only to find them tied at the ankles and secured to a center post. Office chair? It seems likely. His back is against a soft cushion, his arms pulled around the seat back. He tests the bindings on his hands. They’re not too tight, he might have been able to get out of them except for the swelling from getting out of the ropes _yesterday_. At least they left the thin wraps over his wrists; he’s chafed enough already, and starting to itch. He can’t hear anyone moving around, so it’s likely that he’s alone for the moment. With no idea of his surroundings, he estimates his current chance of escape as approaching zero, so he lets his mind wander to other things, like whether they brought the pastries along (breakfast was hours ago) and the unfairness of a job where rope burns on your wrists are a normal hazard. Somehow he’s always the one who gets tied up, isn’t he? Jack would probably made some inappropriate comment, but Ianto can’t think of it right now. In any case, it’s late enough that Jack will shortly be realizing that Ianto is missing, so all he has to do is sit tight and wait for rescue. In the meantime, he can entertain himself with thoughts of the games he and Jack get into in the Hub after the others have gone home.

 

Ianto is almost smiling under his hood when he’s startled by a light tap on the back of his hand and a quiet Welsh voice. “Hey, Shhh…”

 

Ianto nods compliance.

 

“I’m going to take your hood off. They think you’re still out, but they’ll come if you make noise. Keep it down, yeah?”

 

Ianto nods again. The hood comes off, exchanging one sort of stale air for another. In the low light of a single computer monitor, Ianto sees a young boy with wild dark hair and wide blue eyes. The kid looks at him as if inspecting for flaws.

 

“You’re him, aren’t you?” the kid asks.

 

“Pardon?”

 

“The stolen child. The one taken by Torchwood. You’re him? They finally rescued you?”

 

 

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh wow, shit, I’m sorry. I got distracted by life, then I got lost in another fandom, then I started feeling guilty about not having finished this, and avoided it. Classic ADHD. Since it's been, like, six months, it's worth considering reading from the beginning.

Jack stares at the scene in front of him, uncertain what to do. He doesn’t want to put his gun down, but he’d rather Gwen not get shot. On the other hand, Ianto is absolutely pissed off, and Jack’s really not sure what the other man is capable of at this point. Ianto is so reserved most of the time that they forget he’s the man who coolly snuck a cyberman into the Hub under their noses, then deceived them for months. If he’s been pushed to the breaking point, there’s no telling what he’ll do. Jack needs to defuse this, and he needs to do it without giving up control. Thanks to Tosh, he has some idea where to start. 

“Ianto, I’m sorry. I know it looks bad right now, but this isn’t the solution. Put the gun down and let’s fix this.”

Ianto looks perplexed, Gwen, under her fear, looks livid. 

“I don’t need you to fix anything, I need access to the secure vault,” Ianto says. 

“But you have that. You’ve had that for ages. It’s coded to your retinas and voice pass.”

Jack is so focused on Ianto and Gwen that he doesn’t notice Owen until he speaks. 

“That’s not Ianto, Jack,” Owen says, aiming Gwen’s Beretta —which he must have picked up from where it fell in the scuffle— directly at Ianto. Owen can be preternaturally silent when he chooses. Jack forgets that, too. Jack looks at ‘Ianto’ more closely.

“How can you tell?”

“You mean other than that it’s taken Gwen hostage? Look at its wrists. Last night Ianto had bruises and rope burns. I wrapped them myself before sending him home.”

Jack looks to where Ianto’s sleeves have slid back, exposing bare, unmarked wrists. He knows he should shoot, shouldn’t take chances, but he hesitates, partly out of concern for Gwen, but, if he’s honest, partly because his heart still thinks this is the man he’s come to care so deeply for, no matter what his intellect is beginning to recognize. Now that he’s paying attention, the can see the other differences. This ‘Ianto’ looks more like the man Jack first met; he’s lean, with none of the muscle built up from years of running and grappling. Without Ianto’s self-assurance, the fear shows through in his expression, making it less ‘cruel’ and more like a parody of cruelty. “You think a shape changer came through the Rift and took Ianto’s place?”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with this alert; I think this one has been with us since the Hub. I noticed its wrists when it came after me in the basement, but the stun didn’t take me out for long as it should have. Our Ianto would have known which stun gun had a full charge after yesterday; he’s the one who put them away.”

“That would explain the coffee, too. I should have guessed when Tosh got bad coffee,” Jack says with regret.

Jack should have noticed a lot of things. Looking back he sees the signs he missed. Ianto’s been saying he needs some time off to catch up on personal stuff, yet he came in when he’d been given the morning off. He pulled away, becoming cold, abrasive rather than retreating into professional pleasant blandness. Also, the real Ianto would have been noticeably excited about a new suit, and would never, never, have suggested that Jack make his own coffee. That alone should have been an instant giveaway. In retrospect, every interaction that morning should have been a clue, and Jack, caught up in his own problems, had missed them all. 

Apparently Owen had too, because he says, “And it’s why he hid in the archives all morning. I thought he was just bent out of shape about that scene last night. You need to get that under control. Personally I don’t give a shit if Ianto dumps your arse, that’s not my problem, but the situation with Gwen needs to be handled.”

“What situation?” Gwen demands, still on her knees. “Everything is fine between me and Jack!”

Apparently she’s already forgotten the morning’s conversation. 

“Wait, Harkness is with Ianto?” the fake Ianto asks incredulously, proving he’s not as dangerous as he’s been pretending. “I’ve been watching you lot out and about for months, and it’s always Harkness and Cooper making eyes. That’s why I went after her.”

“Yeah, it’s a problem,” says Owen. 

“I told you, there’s something between us, Jack! Even he can see it.” Gwen says, wincing when the man tightens his grip. 

“It’s nothing!” snaps Jack.

“It doesn’t look like nothing. I thought the two of you were going to go at it right there in the warehouse yesterday.” 

“I’m with Ianto, Gwen’s with Rhys,” Jack clarifies.

“Who’s Rhys?”

“He’s the tubby one,” Owen explains, “From the warehouse. They’re engaged.”

“But she’s screwing Harkness.”

“NO!” Jack and Gwen shout together. 

“But she would,” Owen snorts. “She’s not exactly faithful.”

“Oh, because you were so respectful of my relationship when I was in YOUR bed!” says Gwen, flinching when the man tightens his grip on her hair and shakes a little. That’s the thing about Gwen: She goes from pushing herself at Jack to asserting her love for Rhys to acting indignant about her affair with Owen without any apparent cognitive dissonance. It makes Jack’s head spin. And apparently he’s not the only one having trouble with it. 

“What the bloody hell is wrong with you people? Harkness has Ianto but wants Cooper, who is engaged to this Rhys bloke but used to fuck Harper and now wants Harkness, who somehow doesn’t know his supposed lover well enough to recognize a switch? I should have done Ianto a favor and poisoned you all this morning.”

“You almost did with that coffee, mate,” says Owen.

The man looks almost sheepish. “The machine is very complicated, and there aren’t any good YouTube videos.”

“Is that what you were doing all morning?” Jack asks. 

The man grimaces. “I was trying to find a Vinvocce aminosequencer, and it’s in the secure vault. The goal was to get in, get it, and get out before your Ianto arrived. Once I had it, it wouldn’t matter if you figured out the switch, and it’s unlikely you’d ever notice anything missing.”

Which brings Jack back to his earlier question: “Wait, where is our Ianto?” 

“In his flat, I presume. Or he was when we left the Hub. According to the tracker in his car, he went out on an errand around 9, stayed just about long enough to have coffee and a pastry, then drove straight back home. I was worried I’d have to leave without the sequencer; I was relieved when he went home. Whatever you did must have really upset him.”

“If you’ve hurt him—“

“I wouldn’t! It was never my intent to hurt any of you, but certainly not him. Ianto is as much a victim as any of us, for all that he's the first. It’s why I waited until he took a morning off. It was supposed to be quick. I thought all I had to do was fool you for a few hours. As the day went on I needed to get that access code, and I knew Ianto could come in at any time. When the Rift alert went off, I was hoping to get you all out and separate you.”

“It was a fake!” Gwen exclaims.

The man shakes his head. “No, it was an actual alert, but I already found the object. Just space junk. I left it in the dean’s office under the desk, I figured I could send you an anonymous tip later to retrieve it. I don’t know your system well enough to fake an alert.”

Despite the ongoing banter, Owen’s aim hasn’t wavered once. “So you get us out of the Hub, stun me, take Gwen hostage, get the codes from Jack, shoot him, and what? Go back to the Hub for the sequencer and hope Tosh doesn’t figure you out? Because she looks sweet, but she’s no cupcake. She’ll take you down in an instant.”

“And I’d never give those codes out.” Jack adds. “Not even to save Gwen. And if you shoot her, you’ll have no leverage at all, and neither Owen nor I will hesitate to kill you. The best move you have left is to release Gwen, carefully set that gun down, and we’ll decide if it’s safe to let you go.”

“I'm not leaving without the sequencer.”

Jack considers. As much as he hates negotiating with someone who has broken into his Hub and impersonated one of his team (this isn’t actually a first for Torchwood,) it seems like the man genuinely doesn’t mean any harm. The aminosequencer he’s after is fairly benign on its own, it’s only locked in the secure vault because it’s part of a set with more sinister uses. Given that a number of the pieces are still buried with Torchwood One, he may actually be willing to give it up- or loan it out- for a good cause. First, though, he has to get Gwen safe. He thinks the man is being honest when he says he doesn’t actually want to hurt anyone. Jack can work with that. “The longer this goes on, the lower your chances. This is your best option. Gun down, then we’ll go back to the Hub and you can try to convince me.”

The man is still for a moment, then visibly relaxes. He slowly places his weapon on the ground and releases Gwen, who slumps forward. He holds his arms at his sides, hands open, as he steps back, looking more like Ianto than ever. Jack knows this expression. This is a man defeated, but determined to overcome, reminding Jack of Ianto when he first returned to work after his suspension. Whatever his reasons, this man believes in what he’s doing and is willing to sacrifice whatever it takes. 

“Help me. Help us. If things had gone as planned, it would never have made you any difference. We’re no threat.”

Jack keeps his weapon trained on the man as Owen secures him with the handcuffs he keeps in the inside pocket of his leather jacket. He doesn’t resist. Meanwhile, Gwen has rolled to her feet and is shaking out her limbs and rolling her neck from the uncomfortable position. She picks up Owen’s Sig Sauer from where the man set it down, engaging the safety and tucking it in the back of her waistband. 

So what now? Jack thinks. He needs more information. The man keeps saying ‘we’, who is ‘we’? Why did he call Ianto 'the first'? What do they need with that artifact? How did he learn enough about them to pass as Ianto, even a little? Aside from Jack’s own negligence, the system had allowed the impostor access, and he had been able to use the Mainframe and navigate the archives without trouble. They’re going to need to tighten security. 

Jack sends Gwen to find the artifact, hoping the man was correct, that it’s only space junk. Owen says nothing as they make their way back to the SUV, uncharacteristically gentle with his captive. Jack can sympathize. Even knowing that it’s not Ianto, he finds himself giving the man just a little more consideration. He wonders if he could have actually pulled the trigger. Jack likes to think himself a cold pragmatist, but there’s something about Ianto that’s gotten under his skin. Gwen, sure, he could have sacrificed Gwen, though he would have regretted it deeply. Not Ianto, though, and maybe not even a shape changer who looks like him. It puts things in perspective. 

When Gwen returns, they slip the artifact, an ornate wooden box, into the specially reinforced containment box the boot to catalog later. Sure enough, it looks like the Rift has grabbed another random item, but Jack will want to look a little closer before he declares it not a threat; they’ve had enough transducers and ritual items and fizzy beverages come though that turned out to be big problems that Jack isn’t comfortable just assuming anything is benign. For now, it’s safe enough. Gwen and Owen swap their weapons back, and they all settle into the SUV with Jack driving, Gwen in the passenger seat, and Owen with 'Ianto' still secured in the back. 

As they drive back to the Hub, Owen asks, “So what’s a shape changer need with Vinvocce tech?”

“I’m not a shape changer,” he says, “I’m human. Welsh even.” 

Owen snorts at that. “So why?”

“Genetic damage. All of us have it, though I have the least. I need it to save my brothers.”

That is something Jack can empathize with. He's got a brother, and he knows what it's like to try to save him. He knows how it feels to fail. Jack would have done the same in his position; he might not even have been as careful about collateral damage. “What’s your name, anyway?”

“Marc.”

“Marc what?”

The man—Marc, Jack reminds himself— pauses as if to think. “Avery. Or maybe Davidson? It’s not like I have a birth certificate, seeing as I was never really born.”

Gwen turns around in her seat to look at him with gentle pity. It’s one of the things Jack has always found wonderful about Gwen; her ability to step from victim to comforter in an instant, and her fierce protectiveness of those who have been wronged. It’s a little odd to see her kindness toward a man who was, until recently, threatening to kill her, but that’s Gwen in a nutshell: she reacts emotionally in the moment. It’s how she can believe herself devoted to Rhys when they’re together and still pursue Jack.

Something about the name Avery pricks Jack’s memory, coupled with the image of a handsome, dark haired older man. “Avery. David Avery?” Marc nods. “Son of a bitch,” Jack mutters.

“What do you know that we don’t?” Owen asks.

“All of it. I think I know all of it.”

“So you’ll help us?” Marc says hopefully. 

“Yeah. I made this happen. I owe it to you to fix it. Let’s go get that sequencer.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! I really do intend to make everything clear. In fact, it all starts to untangle in the next one, which is in progress. Hopefully I won't take as long. For those of you who saw the name Marc and went “HEY!”, if you think you know something, you probably do. It’s an homage. As always, thanks for reading, and thank you especially for your reviews

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! It’s been–checks history–over a year since I posted anything, and this story has been sitting in my WIP folder for–checks file properties–almost three years. Thing is, I had intended to post it for Gmariam’s birthday, but after rushing to get it ready and coming in with like 15 minutes to spare before midnight, I realized that I had neither title nor summary. Shit. I’m kinda glad it happened that way now; I’ve taken the time to tighten it a little and to plot out the rest of the story. This is the ‘another post-Meat’ I was referring to in Choices, and, um… I was particularly not happy with Gwen when I was writing it. Sorry, not sorry. So, since this was a birthday story all along, I’ll post it for Ianto’s 35th. As always, all the gratitude to Gmariam, who says “Are you writing anything?” even when she knows the answer. I know where this story is going, and I’m dedicated to getting it there at last. Come along with me? And… trust me?


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